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Meade, L. T., 1854-1914

"The Children's Pilgrimage"

Whenever I exercises a bit of
self-denial, I thinks: well, I'll do it for the dear dead lamb. I
thinks o' him in the arms of Jesus, and nothink seems too hard to
give up for the sake of the blessed One as takes such care of my darling."
"I guess as that's why you're so good to 'strays,'" said John
Moseley. "Eh! but, Moll, wot 'as come o' yer word, as you'd take no
more notice o' them, since them two little orphans runned away last
winter?"
"There's no manner o' use in twitting at me, John. A stray child
allers reminds me so desp'rate hard o' Charlie, and then I'm jest
done for. 'Twill be so to the end. Hany stray 'ud do wot it liked wid
Mammie Moseley. But eh! I do wonder wot has come to my poor little
orphans, them and Susie! I lies awake at night often and often and
thinks it all hover. How they all vanished from us seems past belief."
"Well, there seems a power o' 'strays' coming hup the stairs now,"
said John Moseley, "to judge by the noise as they makes. Sakes alive!
wife, they're coming hup yere. Maybe 'tis Mr. Danvers and his good
lady. They said they might call round. Jest set the table tidy."
But before Mrs. Moseley could do anything of the kind, the rope
which lifted the boards was pulled by a hand which knew its tricks
well, and the next instant bounded into the room a shabby-looking dog
with a knowing face. He sprang upon John Moseley with a bark of
delight; licked Mammie Moseley's hands; then, seeing the cat in her
accustomed corner, he ran and lay down by her side.


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